Sniper's Song
by sydney453
Summary: CSI: Miami A gunman is terrorizing the people of Miami--- and leaving Horatio clues to his next move. Chapter four now added.
1. Chapter One

Title: Sniper's Song

Author: Sarah

E-mail: sydney453@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. 

Summary: A gunman is terrorizing the people of Miami--- and leaving Horatio clues to his next move

AN: This is kind of a "throw it up against the wall and see if it sticks" fic. If people like it, I'll continue.

Chapter One

Miami-Dade Crime Lab

Friday, February 21, 2003                                                                                                                                                                                             2:05PM           

Horatio Caine sat down at his desk and flipped through the mess of papers and mail that had accumulated over the last few days. Lab report after lab report lay scattered in a disarray on the desk before him. Horatio set to organizing them, stopping when he noticed a small manila envelope stuck in the middle of a ballistics report. Neatly printed dark black letters stood out on the yellow paper: **Lieutenant Horatio Caine**. His interest peaked, Horatio unsealed the flap and pulled out a plain white index card with four words printed on it: **Goin' to the chapel… **

Horatio studied the index card for a few seconds, pondering the words before him. 

"'Goin' to the chapel,'" Horatio muttered to himself, wondering what the phrase meant. 

Horatio carefully set the card down, treating it as he would a piece of evidence. He wondered for a minute if it came from a coworker as a joke about his woefully inadequate social life, but quickly ruled that out when he realized that the handwriting was not familiar. 

"What could this be? A threat?" Horatio asked himself. 

He'd seen this type of behavior before, sometimes would-be murderers liked to play games with members of the police department before committing a crime. 

Horatio picked up the phone that sat to his right and dialed the lab. 

"Delko? I need you to come to my office right away, please."  Horatio looked down on the card and wondered its significance. 

"What's up, H?"  a breathless Delko asked from the door of the office a few moments later. 

Horatio looked up and beckoned for Delko to come closer. "I want you to come look at this." Delko looked down at the paper and then directed a questioning glance at Horatio. 

"What am I looking at?" Delko asked. 

"I found this in with my papers. In this envelope," Horatio gestured towards the manila envelope under the index card. "There are no post marks or  labels of any kind, which means that someone slipped this in with my papers. I have a bad feeling about this and until I'm proven wrong, I want the card and the envelope treated as evidence." 

He pulled out a box of rubber gloves from the bottom drawer of his desk. "Put these on and then take the card and envelope down to the lab and process them. Look for finger prints, fibers, what brand of ink and paper these are… I want anything you can find." 

Delko snapped on the gloves and carefully picked up the papers. "Do you think this means anything?" 

Horatio nodded gravely, "I think it's a warning."

St. Peter's Church                                                                                                                                                                                                                        8:45PM

The newly married Jonathan Andrews clasped his bride's hand as they made their way down the aisle of the church towards the door. 

"We finally did it!" he whispered excitedly to his new wife Heather. 

Heather smiled broadly at Jonathan and squeezed his hand in response.  Jonathan glanced around the church, smiling as they made their way past friends and family. 

The man in the navy t-shirt smiled too. He could hear the sounds of the recessional from his perch in an empty apartment building six stories above the street.  The man had always admired this church growing up; so much history, such beautiful architecture. 

"Such an easy target," he muttered to no one.  

He straightened up as he saw the church doors opening. Lifting his gun, he smiled a little and sang to himself. "_Goin' to the chapel and we're gonna get married, goin' to the chapel of love…" _

The sound of his gun firing drowned out the rest of the lyrics.


	2. Chapter Two

Title: Sniper's Song

Author: Sarah

E-mail: sydney453@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. 

Summary: A gunman is terrorizing the people of Miami--- and leaving Horatio clues to his next move

AN: Thanks so much for the reviews! They are very much appreciated.

Chapter Two                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          Miami-Dade Crime Lab                                                                                                                                                                                                            9:30 PM

"As you can see, the cause of death was massive hemorrhaging from the jugular vein. You poor thing, exsanguinated on the pool room floor. You were so drunk you never even saw the knife coming at…" The shrill ring of Horatio's cellular phone interrupted Alexx in mid sentence. 

"Caine. And where is this? I'll be right down." Horatio snapped his cell phone shut and shook his head. 

"Everything all right?" Alexx asked.

"Nope, not even remotely all right. We've got a bride shot dead in front of St. Peter's." Horatio responded as he removed his surgical gown and gloves.  "I'll need you and the rest of the team at the scene as soon as possible.  I'll be taking Speedle with me, please notify Delko and Calleigh."

"Of course," Alexx responded, as she set to finishing the autopsy of the young man before her. 

St. Peter's Church

            Horatio surveyed the scene in front of him as he emerged from his car. He tried to avoid looking at the woman in the long white dress sprawled out on the church steps for as long as possible.  Horatio braced himself for what he would be about to witness as Detective Sevilla approached him.

"The newly married Heather Andrews." Sevilla said as she gestured at the woman. "Was on her way to her reception when  a shot from the sky took her out. We've got officers searching the buildings across the street for where the shooter could have hidden himself. Witnesses think that it came from that building over there." Sevilla pointed at the ten story apartment building directly across from the churchyard. 

"Good," Horatio said, assuming his usual commanding role. "Speed, I want you to photograph everything. Adele, I'd like you to take a walk with me."

"You got it, H." Speedle responded and wandered off towards the crime scene, camera at the ready. 

Horatio watched Speedle walk away and then took Sevilla's elbow and led her away from the crime scene. "We've got a bit of a problem," he said.

            Speedle joined Calleigh and Delko as they hovered over the woman, who lie face down in the pool of blood staining her dress.  

"Hey," Speedle said by way of greeting.

"Always the chatty one, aren't you Speed?" Calleigh teased. "Do you have any information for us?"

Speedle shook his head as he snapped a few pictures of the woman's bloodstained hair. "Nothing new. What you see is what you get. Once we find the shooter's hideout we'll have a better idea of what happened."

"Goin' to the chapel," Delko muttered to himself.

Speedle lowered his camera and looked at Delko. "What did you say?" he asked curiously. 

Delko shook his head and said "Nothing." as he walked away. 

"Where are you going?" a confused Calleigh called after Delko.

"To find H." Delko said over his shoulder as he moved away from the crime scene.

"I swear, that man gets stranger every day." Calleigh said as she watched Delko leave. "What do you think he meant?" she asked Speedle.

Speedle shrugged, "Too much diving, the lack of fresh air is starting to mess with his brain."

            Horatio was just finishing telling Sevilla about the note card he had received only hours ago when Delko jogged up to the pair. 

"Horatio, I need to talk to you." he said urgently. 

"Right, I've filled Detective Sevilla in on the little gift we received this afternoon." Horatio said. "Tell us everything that you found on it."

"That's just it," Delko said, obviously frustrated. "I didn't find anything. There wasn't a finger print or a fiber on either the note card or the envelope. The paper and the ink used can be found in any office supply store. There's just… nothing."

"That's okay. He'll slip up and we'll get him." Horatio said. "He may have already. Let's head back to the scene."

"You think he's a serial." Sevilla stated.

"I'm not ruling anything out at this point. Most likely, yes. He wanted our attention and now he's got it." Horatio explained. "Another shooting is practically inevitable."

 As the three officers approached the scene, Calleigh hurried towards them. 

"They found where he was hiding. He took his shot from a room on the sixth floor of that apartment across the street." Calleigh explained. "I'm headed over there right now to see what I can find." 

Horatio nodded, "You do that. Delko go with her. I'll be over there as soon as I speak with Alexx."

Horatio and Sevilla watched as Calleigh and Delko walked off before they approached Alexx.

"What can you tell me Alexx?" Horatio asked.

Alexx glanced up from looking over the body. "Single gunshot wound. Right between the eyes. She was probably dead before she hit the ground." Alexx shook her head. "This guy's a crack shot. He got her dead center."

"Alright, I'm going to take a look in the apartment building. Speedle, could you come here a minute?" Horatio asked.

"What do you think this was?" Speedle questioned. "Jealous ex?"

"I'm not sure just yet. Speed, I want you to talk to the people who live in the building." Horatio said. "Find out if they've seen any strangers around lately, okay?"

"Right, I'll do that." Speedle left Horatio and Sevilla at the crime scene.

"Well, let's go see if our shooter has left us anything." Horatio said.

            "Calleigh, have you got anything for us?" Horatio asked as he and Sevilla entered a small bedroom towards the back of the apartment.

Calleigh shook her head. "He isn't leaving us anything. No fingerprints, no shell casings, nothing."

"He left us the bullet." Sevilla stated.

"That he did." Horatio agreed. "But he may have left us something else." Horatio gestured at the edge of a yellow envelope poking out from under an area rug.

"Another note card?" Sevilla asked.

"Another note card." Horatio said as he bent down and pulled the envelope out from under the rug.  "The same as the first one."

Horatio looked down on the envelope "**Lieutenant Horatio Caine**." He pulled the card out and sighed when he saw what was printed on it. "**Leavin' on a jet plane**…"

"We've got another one." he said.


	3. Chapter Three

Title: Sniper's Song

Author: Sarah

E-mail: sydney453@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. 

Summary: A gunman is terrorizing the people of Miami--- and leaving Horatio clues to his next move

AN: So, so sorry for not updating in ages. First there was a horrible case of writer's block. Then I moved. Then I started my senior year of college. Bah, I could sit here for ages detailing all that has kept me away from writing, but I won't. My online diary is linked in my profile if you're interested. 

I have to say thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews. They most definitely mean a lot and inspired me to keep attempting to write even when the ideas refused to come. I'm happy to say I've had a revelation of sorts and hope to finally finish this story in the next few weeks. 

I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter Three

**1501 Maple Shade Drive**

**Miami, Florida**

**10:55 PM**

Parker Wilkinson paced his apartment, nearly bubbling over with anticipation. "Five more minutes," he muttered to himself. Five more minutes until all of Miami knew just what he was capable of. Five more minutes until every one of his meticulous plans made him famous. Well not him, exactly. His _work._

Parker chuckled to himself. This was sort of his coming out party. He hoped everyone would appreciate all that he had done. His heart skipped a beat when he flicked on the television and heard the opening moments of the newscast.

"Tragedy at the chapel, a young woman is gunned down just moments after being married," the perky brunette newswoman began. Parker leaned forward in excitement as footage of the crime scene rolled. 

"Twenty-six year old Heather Andrews was murdered in cold blood on the steps of St. Peter's Church this evening." The scene cut to a red eyed man in a tuxedo. "She was s-so happy, " he stuttered. "And now... now she's gone, whoever did this, whoever took her away from us..." the man, Heather's father-in-law, trailed off as he turned away from the camera.

Parker tugged at the collar of his navy t-shirt to keep from squealing with glee. This was so much sweeter than he thought it would be. 

The report continued, "An investigation has begun, but so far no arrests have been made." The camera panned over the crime scene, giving Parker a wonderful view of all the upset that he had caused. Police cars and an ambulance lined the street, their lights flashing angrily against nearby buildings. Police officers and crime scene investigators combed the area, searching for clues that he had been too thorough to leave behind. 

"Lieutenant Horatio Caine promised the victim's family swift action," said the newscaster as Caine's image flashed onto Parker's screen. 

Parker smirked at the television, awaiting the response of the brilliant Lieutenant Caine. 

"This crime will not go unpunished. We will find who did this," Caine said as his eyes bored into the camera lens, "and we will bring him to justice. Count on that."

The perky news anchor and her partner flashed back onto the screen. "Sad, sad news, Mike."

The newsman nodded his head, "Indeed it is. In other news..." 

Parker angrily jabbed the off button and threw the remote at an overstuffed recliner. "Smug bastard. Son of a bitch," he hissed. "Thinks he can beat me. We'll see about that." 

**Miami-Dade Crime Lab**

**Saturday, February 22, 2003**

**7:30AM**

Speedle shook his head as he read over the computer printout again. "Nothing, absolutely nothing," he said to the empty room. "If I didn't know better I'd say he was one of us. Not one fingerprint. Not one fiber. He's good."

"But we're better," came Horatio's voice from behind Speedle, causing him to jump slightly.

Speedle swiveled his chair to face the door and shot Horatio a withering look, "It's way too early for you to be popping up out of nowhere like that."

Horatio ambled into the room, "This man is cocky and vain. He's sending me note cards, preening and looking for attention. He's smart, I'll give him that, but he thinks he's smarter than he really is. People like him always slip up." Horatio leaned down to pick up the latest note card, "And we'll be there when he does." 

"Uh, uh," Speedle said skeptically. "Or he could be some crazed jackass who doesn't know what he's doing and'll wind up shooting himself in the foot while cleaning his gun." Horatio looked at Speedle and shook his head slightly. 

"Hey," Speedle said. "It could happen. And it would make our job a hell of a lot easier."

"But our job is not easy," Horatio declared, "that's what makes it interesting. What did you get from your interviews with the neighbors?"

Speedle pulled out his notes. "One woman claimed she saw some creepy guy," he said making air quotes with his fingers, "lurking around a couple of days ago. Other than that, nothing. No one saw a thing. Amazing."

"Did she get a good look at him?" Horatio asked.

"Yeah, said he was about six-two, dark hair, light skin, no distinguishing features," Speedle responded. "Just your average guy."

"Right. Have her come in and meet with our sketch artist." Horatio ordered authoritatively.

Speedle nodded and tapped at an appointment book with a pencil, "I'm way ahead of you. She's coming in after she drops her kid off at the sitter's."

"Good," Horatio responded. "Let's hope they can give us something to work with." 

With that he stalked out of the room. 

"...You're welcome. It was nothing, really. Bye. Have a nice day." Speedle said to Horatio's long departed back. "...Jeez." 

"What have you got for me Calleigh?" Horatio questioned as he strode into the range.

Calleigh held up a rifle, "I'm ninety-five percent sure he used this type of gun. Standard issue hunting rifle. You can get it anywhere, even Wal-Mart," she paused and smiled a little. "They really do sell everything. Didn't attach a silencer so the bullet was as close to mint condition as it could be."

"And," Horatio urged.

"And nothing," Calleigh responded. "The rifle, the bullets... everything is standard. Nothing distinguishing about them. They're sold anywhere and everywhere."

"That's fantastic," Horatio said dryly. 

Calliegh continued, "Of course I'd be able to match the bullet to the rifle itself, once we have it. Until then," she shrugged. "Nothing."

"Our shooter seems to have left us with a whole lot of that," Horatio remarked. 

**1501 Maple Shade Drive**

**8:15 AM**

Parker hummed to himself as he polished the barrel of his rifle. Today was going to be a good day, he could feel it. He took the rifle apart and placed it carefully in it's case. 

"Got to protect my greatest investment," he muttered.

Parker leaned towards the mirror hung over his dresser and admired his newly dyed hair. He smiled at his reflection.

"Always knew I'd look good as a redhead," he said as he patted his hair. "No time for narcissism. Time for action."

He picked up the rifle's case and headed for the door. 

Time for a trip to the airport. 


	4. Chapter Four

Title: Sniper's Song

Author: Sarah

E-mail: sydney453@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.

Summary: A gunman is terrorizing the people of Miami—and leaving Horatio clues to his next move. 

AN: Sorry for the lack of updates. Finals. Thanks so much for the reviews! 

Chapter four

Miami International Airport

10:50AM

Larry Wright hefted his clunky black suitcase out of the trunk and dropped it to the ground with a loud thump. The last thing that he wanted to do was get on that plane and fly up to Charlotte. 

"Again," he growled, slamming the trunk closed with unnecessary force. His soon to be ex-wife has found a new hobby. Instead of sleeping with his business partners and running up huge credit card debt, she's now taken to creating unnecessary lawsuits that required his presence in court on a biweekly basis. 

He let out a put-upon sigh and made his way towards the entrance. "This is the _last_ time," he vowed.

Parker studied the crowd of people going into and out of the airport's main entrance. "Who should I pick?" he cooed in a sing-song voice. He eyed the commuters with a gleam in his eye that rivaled that of a gleeful child's in a pet store. Parker grinned broadly, narrowing his eyes in search of the perfect candidate. 

He watched as a tall blonde woman angrily grabbed the hands of a pair of chubby toddlers. She knelt down so she was at eye level with them and reprimanded them. Parker pulled his sunglasses off and leaned forward, watching the woman yell at her kids. "She's not very nice," he declared. But she wasn't the one. Parker would know the one when he saw him or her. Yes the blonde woman deserved punishment, that much was obvious to Parker. But he hadn't felt that strong magnetic pull that he had felt when he'd seen Heather for the first time.

"Hmm," he sighed happily, thinking about the lovely bride. He hadn't set out intending to kill her, but when he saw her coming through the church doors in that pretty white dress, he knew that she was _it._ The way she'd glowed with happiness, her smile had called out to him. Parker would always remember they way he'd snuffed out that radiance in a blink of an eye. 

Parker kept watch, knowing that his victim would appear soon. An elderly woman and a porter struggled mightily with her myriad bags. Parker caught a glimpse of a harassed looking man in an expensive suit as he stalked past his stolen SUV. A small family excitedly fought their way out of the building, pulling a luggage cart with them. 

Time seemed to freeze for Parker as he studied his next victim. "Yes, perfect. You are it," he happily declared as he pulled out his weapon. Humming to himself, Parker took aim. 

"Come _on_ Mom," Annie Sanderson enthusiastically yelled, "let's go to our hotel! _Dad!_ Stop playing with your camera!" This was her first trip to Florida and even the airport seemed to shine brightly with a happy vivacity. __

"Stop bouncing around like that Annie," her father cheerfully ordered, lining up a shot of Annie in front of the vast parking lot. "How about a wave?" 

Annie sighed heavily, rolling her eyes at her father in mock exasperation. "How's this?" she asked, grinning broadly and flapping her hand vigorously at her father's camera. 

"Perfect!" he exclaimed. "Now just one more with your mom." As Dave Sanderson clicked the button on his camera he heard the loud, unmistakable sound of a gun firing. Dave instinctively dropped his camera and threw himself in front of his wife and daughter. 

All around him people were yelling and saying soft, urgent prayers. "What's happening, Daddy?" Annie whispered, terror shining in her eyes. 

"I don't know, sweetie," he said as he lifted up his head and looked around. "It'll be okay," he said soothingly. 

David didn't know what to expect, was there an army of terrorists maybe or a single crazed gunman running towards his family? Everything was calm now, a shocked silence had descended upon the busy airport. People who had thrown themselves to the ground were slowly picking themselves up, each of them glancing around in confusion. Some people were running away from the building, others were running towards it. Every movement buzzed with the urgency of self-preservation. 

David didn't know what to do. Which way was safe? And then everybody seemed to see it all at once. There was a man lying on the ground, eerily still and motionless. David turned to his wife Jean, who was staring at the man with tears in her eyes. He grabbed her by her shoulders. 

"Are you alright?" he urgently questioned. 

"F.. fine," she mumbled, never taking her eyes off of the man. David could tell that his sensitive wife was stunned, on the verge of shock. He gently tilted her head so that Jean was looking into his eyes. "I think you should take Annie back into the building, okay? I'll be right there."

Jean seemed to snap out of her stupor. "Right... right. In the building," she repeated. "It's better inside... be careful."

"Don't worry," David said. 

David watched as his wife and daughter dazedly wandered into the building. 

Then he braced himself as best he could and made his way over to where a small crowd had formed. David winced just looking at the poor man. From where he stood, it looked as if he had just toppled over. David couldn't see anything physically wrong with him until he pushed his way through the ring of people that had formed around him and got a good look at the man's upper body. There was a large, messy bullet hole through the back of his head. He lie in a puddle of blood, it shone brightly in the harsh sunlight. His face and the shoulders of his beige suit were soaked. There was no use testing for a pulse, David thought. He could see brain matter and bone even from where he stood. 

David took a breath, trying to shake off the feeling of cold horror that came to him every time he witnessed a scene like this. He had to be a professional now. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his badge, holding it high for the entire crowd to see. 

"FBI. I need everybody to back away from the victim," David ordered. "This is a crime scene now."

He nodded at the security guards and National Guardsmen helping him secure the scene. "You find anything?" he asked. Every guard had the same response. No shooter could be found. It was like whoever had done this had disappeared into thin air. 

There was nothing else David could do now. It was all up to the evidence. 

That's all until after Christmas. Have a great holiday! 

And now I shall go wrap presents (with the "help" of three cats). Fun!


End file.
